It was the first day of my trial, and I had just finished reading the charges against me and was feeling absolute hatred!
This wasn’t my fault.
I didn’t murder anyone. Yet now i’m in the middle of a courtroom clenching on the table in front of me as my charge is stated.
Will it be death? Or life? Would the jury believe me?
This all seemed like a lie. A foggy lie.
Suddenly, It hit me this was a fragment of my imagination and in fact my parents are dead and i’m dreaming of the consequences of my actions.
I suddenly woke up and realised it was a dream.